Between Moments: It Only Takes a Moment Tribute
by Absentia
Summary: Companion/Tribute to EmaniaHilel's IOTAM series, with her approval. Just a few Snapshots of time between moments. Robin/Raven
1. Support

**It Only Takes a Moment Tribute**

**Summary:** Inspired, of course, by Emania's It Only Takes a Moment series. A series of short Moments from yours truly inspired by this most awesome vignette chain.

**AN:** Yeah, I totally blame Em for this. Puck and Raef have been meeting secretly, methinks. grumbles Sneaky muse bastards… But yeah. So. Little random, more or less unrelated snapshots in time that could be viewed separately from IOTAM, but, who knows, maybe they run right alongside and are hidden snippets you've never seen… waggles fingers spookily Woooo…

Also, I didn't ask Em for permission to do this… but I don't think she'll be very mad at me. I shall mollify her with a dedication and promises of chocolate, mwhehehe…

**Disclaimer:** I don't. Own. ANY. OF IT! I mean, c'mon, I'm writing a fanfic _about_ a fanfic. Take the hint before I'm tempted to shove it down your throat.

**Disclaimer 2:** I'm only doing this once, so pay attention. While not necessary, it is strongly suggested that you read Emania-Hilel's "It Only Takes a Moment" before reading further. I mean, it oughta be pretty obvious from the title, but they're kinda related.

**Dedication:** For Em, for all she's given, and because I want to give a little back.

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_Snapshot_ 1: Support

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_"I'm here when you need me, whether you want me or not." -- Anonymous _

The alarms blared to life in a blazing warning of spinning red light and shrill sound, and the young heroes called Titans dropped what they were doing, and headed for battle.

They were taken by surprise by a new villain, a chilly, stoic young man who threw sheets of ice under the heroes' feet, blankets of snow into their eyes, and blasts of frigid air to throw the flyers off their course.

After several blind, scrabbling rounds in which it looked like the Titans might be losing, Cyborg got fed up and blasted a lance of sound waves in the direction he had last seen their frosty foe. The blast caught him a glancing blow and sent him spinning painfully into the steps of the Bank of Perez, and he lay there, stunned and gasping for breath.

The arctic gales died down and the snow flurries abated to little drifting flakes of white, and Starfire alighted upon the stone steps standing over the fallen thief, casting a green glare over him and holding her blazing fists over him in clear warning. Beastboy took the bag of stolen money from his hand, and Cyborg encased his hands in full-closure cuffs, so he couldn't beset them with blizzards again.

"Well, that's that."

Robin glanced over his shoulder as Raven settled to the ground, shaking clumps of snow from her cloak, and tossing back her hood to attempt to dislodge what had gotten into her hair. Her feet touched down on a patch of ice, and with a sharp cry, they came out from under her.

Robin reacted quick as a Flash, catching Raven around the elbow with one hand and steadying her with another at her waist. "Woah, careful! You okay?"

Blushing, Raven submitted to his touch until she found her footing, and he released her without having to be asked when she straightened. If his fingers lingered on her arm a half-second longer than necessary, it could be only out of concern.

Concern. Of course.

"I'm fine." She hid another flush and ducked her head graciously. "Thanks for the support."

He smiled at her brightly enough to warm the chill that had settled into her from the fight. "Anytime." Shivering suddenly, he glanced over to where the police were trundling the catch of the day into the back of a paddy wagon, under the careful supervision of the other three Titans. "I don't know about you, but I'm freezing. Let's go home, shall we?" He cast her another warm smile. "I'll even make you some tea to warm you up."

Raven smiled back slightly. "Sure," she agreed, but decided she didn't feel cold at all.

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**AN:** So, er, yeah. The first one. Not my best work, and I'm not sure I even like it, but it was the idea that jumpstarted this whole train wreck in the first place, so I figured I may as well write it.

I don't know how many more of these there might be, or how frequently I might post them, but I don't think any of them will be particularly long. They'll probably continue to be just as shoddy and superficial as this one, too, sorry. And I don't think they'll likely fall in order, either…

Anyway, if this were to be viewed in relation to Em's IOTAM, I suppose this would fall somewhere around the beginning-to-middle of Moments. sighs Please don't hate me.


	2. Hold On Hope

**It Only Takes a Moment Tribute**

**Summary:** Inspired, of course, by Emania's It Only Takes a Moment series. A series of short Moments from yours truly inspired by this most awesome vignette chain.

**AN:** Oh my god, two in a row! THE WORLD IS ENDING! Absentia is doing MULTIPLE POSTINGS! And there wasn't even a three month long wait! ARMAGGEDON IS AT HAND!

**Disclaimer:** Shoo, go sue somebody who isn't destitute.

**Dedication:** For Em, for all she's given, and because I want to give a little back.

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_Snapshot_ 2: Hold On Hope

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"_Everybody's got a hold on hope/ It's the last thing that's holding me." Guided by Voices – Hold on Hope_

It was like an itch in his chest.

He wasn't sure when it had started, which thing had set it off, but it was always there now, just sometimes more intense than others.

The itch, the urge, the desire was there when she was curled in a chair with a book, when she stood in front of the stove, preparing her tea. It was there when the Titans all stood in a group, submitting to the flashbulbs and microphones of the media, and Raven stood apart and to one side, alone.

It was there when the tabloids dubbed her "Ice Queen", and she pretended almost convincingly not to mind. It was there when the children at the charity orphanage were frightened by her powers.

It was there now, as she sat with her eyes closed in meditation, her hands resting on her knees as she floated an inch or two above the couch cushions. She worked so hard at being strong and in control, despite all the sacrifices she had to make. And though she gave her all to save the world day in and out, the world was never really sure what to do with her.

Robin's hand twitched on his thigh as he swatted away the itch to reach over and gather the fragile-looking young woman into his arms and keep her there, to comfort and protect her.

She didn't need the protection, and she'd never ask for the comfort. But knowing that did nothing to curb this strange desire to just _hold_ her.

But _why_?

Feeling his gaze on her, Raven slit her eyes open a fraction and turned her head to look at her leader. She smiled ever so slightly, just a faint upward curl to the corner of her mouth, when she saw the faint crease of his brow, the downward turn of his lips.

"Something I can help you with, Boy Wonder?"

Robin jolted slightly, startled from his thoughts by her voice, and he colored slightly. Grinning, a little abashed, he shook his head. "No, thanks. I think this is one I'll need to figure out on my own."

Raven's brows quirked towards her hairline. "Well, don't hurt yourself."

His slow, warm smile was a little confusing and his gaze never moved from her as she resettled herself in the lotus position. "I don't think that'll be a problem."

She whispered her mantra and closed her eyes, and did not see his hands twitch, or his smile turn wistful.

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**AN:** Umm… yeah. I think I like this one a little better than the last one, though the ending is a bit… fudgy. If it were to occur alongside Moments, this would have to be a bit further along in them, about when Robin starts realizing things, I suppose.

And damn, I don't know how Em does it. I'm trying to follow her tradition and put little quotes at the beginnings of each little snippet, but it can be _really_ difficult to find ones that fit properly. I got lucky on the first one; this one is… meh, so-so.

Well anyways, let me know what you think. It's really entirely up to Emania whether or not I keep going with this, but your opinions will certainly have some sway as well. So start talkin' at me, folks. )


	3. Lullabies

**Between Moments – It Only Takes a Moment Tribute**

**Summary:** Inspired, of course, by Emania's It Only Takes a Moment series. A series of short Moments from yours truly inspired by this most awesome vignette chain.

**AN:** A Moment in two parts, because the second bit hearkens back to the first by way of reasoning and explanation, and also for contrast.

**Disclaimer:** I'm in debt, and it's getting worse. Stop trying to make me cry.

**Dedication:** For Em, for all she's given, and because I want to give a little back.

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_Snapshot_ 3 Lullabies (Remembered)

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_"And just before she hangs her head to cry/ I sing to her a lullaby." Shawn Mullins – Rockabye  
_

It wasn't seeing Robin, sans cape and gloves, standing at the sink, up to his elbows in sudsy water that made Raven stop in her path past the kitchen. That was not an unusual sight at all, even though it was Beastboy's week to do dishes.

No, what arrested Raven's attention and glued her feet to the carpet was not the sight of him at all, but the sound of his voice.

It was faint, quiet, almost lost in the noise of clinking flatware and running water. But it was a voice Raven knew well, that her body was tuned to notice on a subatomic frequency, in use in a way she had never heard it before.

She didn't recognize the tune he hummed so softly, and she strained toward the sound, trying to discern the snatch of melody that thrummed in his throat.

She must have made some unconscious noise, some sound that alerted her leader to her presence behind him, for his shoulders jerked as he startled, and the humming cut off like a broken transmission as he looked wide-eyed over his shoulder at her.

"Raven, I didn't notice you there." He smiled in greeting, his expression inviting her as if she hadn't just interrupted a private moment.

Raven frowned and stepped into the kitchen hesitantly, stopping beside him and taking the dishtowel he offered her, and set to drying the clean, damp dishes in the rack on the counter.

They worked in silence for a time, and before Raven could decide to let the unexpected moment go, she murmured, "I didn't know you could sing." She pursed her lips, wondering how they'd spoken of their own accord, and glanced at Robin from the corner of her eye for his reaction.

He pointedly stared away from her into the sink, a faint warmth creeping up his neck and coloring his cheeks. For a moment, as he intently scrubbed the inside of a pot, she thought he would pretend not to have heard her and ignore the question altogether.

"Well, I don't, usually. I'm not too good at it." It came out quietly and in a bit of a rush, as if his mouth, like hers, had decided to speak on its own.

Raven quirked a brow inquisitively, and moved her head a little to look more fully at him. He glanced at her, expressionless, and then away at the pot again. "You didn't sound so bad to me."

He shrugged, half his mouth curving slightly upwards, almost ruefully. "Well, I can sing a little. I'm not so bad at a couple of songs." His voice turned wry and a little joking, and she curved her lips faintly back at him. "But mostly, I kinda suck, so I don't do it too often."

She finished drying the muffin pan in her hands and set it aside. "So what song were you humming just now?" She blushed a little herself, this time. She was being unusually forward with her questions, but hearing his voice as he hummed had stirred something odd in her, and she found she couldn't let it go.

His smile spread and became a sad, wistful thing, and the way his face both softened and gained lines he was too young for made her wish she had been struck mute, or bitten off her tongue, so long as she hadn't asked him this question.

"It's a song my mother used to sing to me, when I was very small." His voice was hushed, reverent, and aching with restrained longing and loss. His smile became wider, and he looked over at her, something new that she couldn't put a name to radiating from that gaze. "I don't really remember the words, but whenever I had nightmares when I was little, her hands and that melody always made everything safe and okay with the world."

Raven's hands stilled on the plate she'd been drying, and she felt her own features soften, caught in that look of his. "It must have been a very special lullaby."

Robin smiled wider still, and she felt his eyes trace her face, as if he saw something there only recognizable to him. "She was a very, very special woman."

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_Snapshot_ 3_ pt.2:_ Lullabies (In the Dark)

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"…Everything's gonna be all right," Robin sang softly, earnestly into Raven's ear as she cried against his chest. "Rockabye, rockabye."

He had been sleeping, but not peacefully; haunted by dreams of memories and fears and guilts that weren't his. Memories of losing a mother that had never really been known; losing a woman whom had been like a mother when she could risk it. Fears of a father that couldn't be denied.

An echoed, ripping, feeling of grief, regret, and overwhelming sadness had burned in his chest when he threw himself violently out of bed. He had rushed, blind and headlong, from his darkened bedroom and through night-hushed corridors to where he was needed, opening Raven's door without pausing to knock or announce himself.

He didn't know just what—though he suspected—had told him he would find her there, curled in on herself in the middle of her bed, fist stuffed into her mouth to stifle the sobs. He didn't stop to wonder if this was okay, if he should be intruding or if he was welcome here. For once, he did not pause to consider Raven's privacy. The sight of her was too heartbreaking to even consider turning his back.

There was no force on this or any other world that could make him leave this room, leave this girl to herself right now.

He had climbed cautiously onto the bed with her, and surprisingly, Raven did not resist when he pulled her into his arms and leaned back with her against the headboard. He held her as she grieved and cried, as she embraced for the first time the full weight of her tragic, lonely, painfully careful life.

He didn't ask her difficult questions or try to distract her from the pain of the abandonment and desperation she'd never really allowed herself to feel before.

And when the tears began to lessen, and the wracking sobs to subside into little earthquakes, he sat and held her close, stroking her hair from her face, and sang to her a lullaby.

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**AN:** Wow… that was… blinking, surprised Not quite what I had been expecting. But I like it. Surprisingly a lot. looks around suspiciously Did Em send Puck over to kick Raef in the bum after all? That's the best he's done in _weeks_.

But yeah… a Moment in two parts, as I said. I'm not sure where the hell this'd fit with Em's Moments, if at all, but I'm really glad I did it. It's rather different from her sort of Moment, at least that second bit. I usually do more angsty, dark stuff than she does, at any rate. But the first was surprisingly actual-Moment-like. I must've been channeling her. Lol.

Well, it was longer than the others (nearly the size of them both combined, actually), and longer than I'd meant to make it. But when your writing takes on life of its own, you just kind of have to ride the inspiration wave and type with the wordflow.

smiles Thanks to everyone who reviewed my first two Snapshots, and for the favorites and alerts. You guys brighten my life when it's becoming dismally overcast, and I thank you from the bottom of my beady black heart.

And biggest thanks of all, of course, to Em, who not only read and approved of this little load of crap, but honored me by gushing like a schoolgirl in reviews. I've never _been_ so flattered. )

And I strongly suggest reading this Snapshot whilst listening to the main two songs to which it was written: Shawn Mullins's "Rockabye", of course, from which comes the quote and the snatch of lyrics Robin sings, and the entire "lullaby" theme; and A Perfect Circle's "What's Going On", which didn't have much to do with the content, but definitely helped create the mood and atmosphere.

And no worries, the ride isn't over yet folks, nor likely to stall for too long. These things are surprisingly easy to do, and I can see how Em's gotten addicted to them. In fact, I'm planning a little something slightly similar… but can't quite say when that might happen…

Well, let me know what you think, folks. Am I the only one who likes it so much? Do tell…


	4. Home

**Summary:** Inspired, of course, by Emania's It Only Takes a Moment series. A series of short Moments from yours truly inspired by this most awesome vignette chain.

**AN:** Well, damn. The fact that this little baby has had more hits on it than even Awkward Entanglements can only, certainly, be due to Em's pimping it out like a well used whore. grins Awesome. Thank you all, and Em 'specially.

**Disclaimer:** "Hello, welcome to Books-a-Million! Would you be interested in purchasing our discount card? It saves you a whole pathetic ten-percent and costs—today, anyways, though give us a couple weeks and you'll be forking over twenty through the nose instead—ten dollars—which you _could_ be using to purchase two and a quarter gallons of gas—for only the year's use—but I swear to god, if you don't buy it, I don't get paid, and then you'd have to die. Buy the mother-effing card!" (Getting the picture?)

**Dedication:** For Em, for all she's given, and because I want to give a little back.

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_Snapshot_ 4: Home

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"_Let me go home/ I'm just too far/ From where you are/ I want to come home." Michael Bubl_é–_ Home_

It was late and dark, and quiet, and only the two of them in their pajamas put a subdued sense of life into the dimmed common room, Raven's lamp making a drifting island of soft orange illumination of the couch where they sat, unable yet to go bed.

He looked at her; stared intensely at her lowered face until at last she was forced to raise her eyes to his.

When she did, and her reserved gaze caught on that not-quite expression he wore, a small line frowned between her brows, and her lips pursed, then parted. "Robin, what is it?"

He hesitated, his arm jerking as it tried to rise towards her, and he held it back. He continued to stare at her, that tortured, pained almost-look of nearly-something still on his face. "It's nothing."

The dark lines of her eyebrows moved, slanting in something like worry and disbelief over those deep pools of color and drowned feeling. "You know I don't believe that, Robin." Her words were a breath, a sentence sighed towards him, a respectfully hushed whisper. "You always have that face I hate, whenever you just get back from Gotham."

He tried to tear his eyes away from the sight of her, attempted to turn his face away, to move his head some other direction, but it was like trying to remove the world from Atlas's shoulders. "I don't." His fingers clenched fiercely to keep the control she was pulling from him with her voice, but it was like grasping at water.

The concern suggested in the slant of her face eased only, not leaving, and her mouth made a sardonic lilt. "You do. For hours, like you're walking around in a nightmare you woke up to."

"I," he began, but his tongue filled his mouth, and his teeth clamped around it like a prison for the soul. There was a swelling under his breastbone that rose into his throat, then escaped into action through his hands.

Raven's surprise was expressed in the flicker-shift of her eyelids when he reached out and plucked the worn paperback from her lap, laying it closed, her place unmarked, on the coffee table. His weight shifted like a tree leaning into the wind, and she pressed her back more firmly against the couch arm, assuring her base in reality. "Robin?"

He inhaled sharply, his mouth flattening grimly, and leaned towards her, waveringly brushing his ungloved fingers over her knee, raising gooseflesh. "Raven… I have a favor to ask you."

Her brows puckered, lashes fluttering in question. "Well what is it?"

"Let me do one thing."

"What are you wanting, Robin?"

"One thing, Raven. One action, one moment."

"Of—of course, I suppose."

Relief flooded his face by washing out everything in it, and he moved one knee onto the couch cushions, levering himself up and placing a hand on her shoulder, pushing her back and down, sliding a surprised and surprisingly pliant Raven down mostly onto her back.

"You don't have to forgive me."

As he settled himself between her and the couch back her, his torso curved against her side, his knee bent over hers and with one arm over her waist, the other beneath her shoulders, he pillowed his head on her chest. His cheek warmed to the pulse of Raven's increased heartbeat, and he sighed contentedly, the tension that had been holding him wire-tight for three days slipping away on the breath.

And when she brushed a wisp of hair from his forehead and murmured, "You needn't be sorry," he smiled, and knew.

He was home.

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**AN:** I have mixed feelings about this one. On the left hand, I rather like it, in a strange, vague, sad way. On the right, I don't think it really fits the Moments groove. Perhaps I should post it as something separate, rather than a Snapshot?

sighs Let me know what you think, please.

Well, if it _were_ to stay a Snapshot, or be considered alongside Moments-verse, this would be… well, I'm not certain where, for sure, but definitely end-ish. The mood suggests a good many mixed and repressed feelings, though Robin's stand seems pretty clear.

Raven is home to him. That sense of belonging, of being right where you should be and safe. And after visiting in Gotham, where things are never safe, and are often painful and ugly, and reminding of tragedy, the craving for that sense of home has made him, for a moment, throw caution to the wind and seek comfort. And Raven does not seem to mind.

Well, I'll talk at you good folks later. Try not to be cross with me for taking so long updating. If it appeases you, I'm doing more work on Awkward Entanglements chapter three. looks hopeful and sheepish

PS: If the tone, voice, imagery, and style seem a bit off herein, that's what you get when Abbie reads too much Diana Wynne Jones and O. R. Melling.


	5. Indulge

**Between Moments – It Only Takes a Moment Tribute**

**Summary:** Inspired, of course, by Emania's It Only Takes a Moment series. A series of short Moments from yours truly inspired by this most awesome vignette chain.

**AN:** Eheheh… yeah, I know. –hangs head in shame- I'm pathetic, and my behavior is inexcusable. I really should have updated AwkEnt (yes, _and_ Aphrodite's Kiss, too, Em, I know) by now… but I haven't. Please don't hate me for it. I really am working on it… promise. ;; I hope you still believe me.

This little snapshot is… weird. That's all I can really say about it right now. –shrugs- Take it or leave it.

**Disclaimer:** I own NOTHING. Okay! Now _stop calling me!_

**Dedication:** For Em, for all she's given, and because I want to give a little back.

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_Snapshot_ 5: Indulge

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"_I'm scared of what I'll miss/ The notion always tastes so sweet/ I only want to dive in deep/ And I've tried/ And I've tried/ I've tried to walk away." Texas – Can't Resist_

He had always loved her hair.

Secretly, he had been resisting the urge to finger the soft-looking strands almost since he had known her. It looked so smooth and fine and thick, and framed her face like the violet backdrop of night cradled the moon. He had found himself more recently, on occasion, lying awake at night, imaging what it would feel like to run his hands through the heavy locks. If her hair would feel as much like silk as it looked.

He remembered noticing, a long time ago, when he had once caught her when she'd been tossed in a tussle with Cinderblock, that she had used a citrusy sort of shampoo, and he had caught himself puzzling it over in the middle of case studies. It just hadn't seemed right. Hadn't seemed _Raven_ enough. She wasn't flowery and sweet and tangy like oranges. She wasn't the bright, vivid splash of color the fragrance suggested at all. She was sharp and cool, piercing and invigorating.

He also remembered being pleasantly surprised one evening, when he had leaned around her to grab a cup from the drying rack when she'd been preparing her tea, and he discovered she had changed shampoos, and now smelled of strong, clear peppermint. He had smiled quite involuntarily, thinking it suited her much better.

Tonight had begun with a movie, Starfire's pick: World of Fungi II.

Raven had begun the evening seated on the couch with Robin, fourteen inches and a throw pillow between them. However, it was an hour and twenty minutes later, and though Robin couldn't be specific _how_ it had happened, Raven had ended up, legs curled beneath her and leaning against his side, head drooping on his shoulder, dozing for the last fifteen minutes.

Robin had spent the last quarter hour awkwardly stiff, his arm tense along the back of the couch, hand curled into a tight fist. With every breath, the crown of Raven's head brushed the corner of his jaw, and his nose was full of the heady, brisk scent of peppermint.

He was being strong. Resisting temptation quite admirably, he thought.

_ Pride comes before the fall_, he would think wryly later.

To his ultimate undoing, Raven took a deep, contented breath, and a lock of soft, silky purple hair slipped from behind her ear and spilled ticklingly over Robin's collarbone, and his breath caught in his throat.

For a full minute, he maintained control, sat frozen and unmoving—not even _breathing_—but the smell of peppermint overwhelmed him, and he gave in.

Exhaling long and low, ignoring a teeny stab of guilt, Robin allowed his arm to drop around Raven's shoulders, and his hand lifted, slowly, so slowly, and he reached out with just his first two fingers, and smoothed a bit of hair away from Raven's cheek.

His face broke out in a small, satisfied smile, and his fingers stroked the same lock behind Raven's ear, over and over, reveling in the texture. It was just as he'd imagined. Maybe sometime, when they were alone and if he could play his cards _just_ right, she'd let him brush it for her.

He was so caught up in these thoughts, he never so much as noticed Cyborg staring inscrutably at them.

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**AN:** Okay, yeah, I warned ya it was weird. This was _really_ odd, and came outta friggin nowhere. I don't know that it could go with Moments (or why I always seem to be writing from Robin's pov, for that matter) but yeah, it hit me, and seemed it might as well be a Between Moment, especially when Cyborg popped up at the end. So… yeah. There ya have it.

Now, I would like to take this moment to do something I don't usually do: endorsement.

I want to promote a wonderful and highly underappreciated author here on ff.n: Guyute.

If you're a fan of Speedy/Rae, Rob/Rae, or RedX/Rae, then you need to be reading Guyute. One word: AWESOME. You can get to Guyute through Search or my favorites; either way.

_Go. Now. Do it._ You're missing out.


	6. Nothing to Say

**AN:** Oh my god, am I _actually_ updating Between Moments? Yes. Yes, I am. I wrote this little snippet about a week ago and when Em read it over last night, I warned that it wasn't much, just a little snapshot in time. And she said, "Like 'It Only Takes a Moment'." And I said, "Huh, yeah. Hey, maybe I'll post it as a 'Between', if you like it." She approved. So here you go. So this is a little snapshot in time about things said, unsaid, and the moments where words become completely obsolete.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Shut up.

**Dedication:** For Emania, of course, for obvious ones and less obvious ones.

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_Snapshot 6:_ Nothing to Say

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"I can't believe you actually _did_ that," Raven chuckled, shaking her head at Robin with eyes slanted merrily. "You just _threw_ yourself under Cinderblock like you thought you were unbreakable. You're the most fragile of us, remember?"

Robin rolled his eyes at her teasing, but by his side on the carpet, his hand twisted a tight fist around his discarded mask, a jolt of resentment and envy spiking through his ribcage at the light reminder. "You say that like you think I don't know. I can't let my limitations hold me back, Rae; it just means I have even more to make up for."

They sat in Raven's bedroom in the small hours of the night, secluded by their low voices and the small pool of light the lone lamp on the bed stand puddled around them. The mood until now had been loose and easy as they engaged in small talk and made jokes and light mockery of each other, but once the conversation had turned to the somewhat hilarious—and slightly alarming—events of their recent bout with the local cement villain, shoulders and tones had begun to tighten and tense.

Now, there was a little pause in which Robin eyed a loose thread on the sleeve of Raven's sweatshirt, and Raven chewed her lip. At last, she sucked in a little breath, and turned to look at him, deciding to confront the small issue before it became too big. "You have less to prove than you think, you know. There's no need to be dangerously reckless when, even without powers, you know your easily the best of us."

Robin's blue eyes shot up to her face in a moment of questioning surprise, because Raven was never one for polite flattery, but then he looked away, uncomfortable with the honest certainty in her face that she spoke true. "Yeah, well. So _you_ say. Either way, you can't really blame me for a little jealousy now and then. Some of the powers you all have... I imagine it must be an amazing feeling."

Raven drew her outstretched legs up and looped her arms loosely about them, staring at her knees. He said that so easily that she knew he didn't mean to hurt her, and with how blatantly joyous Starfire was to have her abilities, it was an easy enough mistake to make. She told herself this, but the cold spot in her chest still flinched at the words he spoke. "I suppose some of us make it seem that way."

Robin, who had already begun to realize his blunder, tried to backpedal quickly, and turned a warm smile on his closest friend. "Come on, Raven. Isn't there something you love about what you can do?"

She only shrugged.

"Anything?" She didn't move at all, which was worse, and he groped in his mind for some sort of olive branch. "What about flying? I mean... my family might have been called the Flying Graysons, but we were short distance sprinters to your marathon. Moving freely in the air, not having to answer to gravity... maybe I'm missing something, but it really just seems like it'd be awesome, to me."

He _was_ missing something. Raven didn't look at him, only rested her chin on her knees, letting her hair slide forward to obscure her profile. He really, truly couldn't understand how flight, the freest metaphor in human imagination, could be anything but wonderful. "Really?"

Raven's shoulders hitched like she'd been hit, the incredulity in his question making her feel... defective. Like she was even farther from human than she'd thought, for being unable to relate. She felt she owed him some explanation. "I don't really like to fly," she murmured into the cotton of her pajama pants. With Robin's sharp ears, she knew he would hear her, and she wasn't sure she could say this at a normal volume, anyways. She always felt like speaking too loudly of these things lent them more weight, more reality.

She could feel him waiting, wondering _why_. "It reminds me... the feeling of flying... the weightlessness, no ground under your feet to stand on, completely supported by nothing but air... the way my stomach drops, and there's nothing to grip on to... it all reminds me very much of how it felt to come undone. When I stopped being a person and became a doorway. That feeling of powerlessness against something bigger than you that _will_ have its way... it's very much the same."

"Oh," The single syllable was an awkward exhalation, and Robin stared ahead of him, knowing he had really stuck his foot in it this time.

What was he supposed to _say_ to that? What could possibly be said?

He glanced over at Raven, at the way she had made herself into something small and compact, like she was trying to hide at the same time as trying desperately to keep her own shape. He hesitated, only a moment, and then, hoping it would be welcome, he reached out and took one of her hands that locked around her calves.

Her fingers laced with his, accepting what he had to offer, and he knew there was nothing he _could_ say. And so maybe he didn't have to say anything at all.

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**AN:** Er, yeah. I'll come up with a nifty little quote for the top some other time. I have a moment of internet availability for once, and thought I;d use it. Hope you enjoyed.


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